


My week with Mephistopheles.

by samstoleaburger



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Sam Winchester, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Gen, I Don't Even Know, In a sense, Nightmares, Post-Hell, Short One Shot, but he's still human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 06:16:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4424612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samstoleaburger/pseuds/samstoleaburger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He breathed in and out. In, out and repeat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My week with Mephistopheles.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written back when I was in an RP group and I still like it so I decided to toss it onto here. Also, title credit goes to my good friend ananomys on tumblr.
> 
> To put it simply, to explain the whole, 'Sam's a demon but still human,' I couldn't make Sam evil for the life of me. So I had him stay mostly human except his demonic side would flare up and make the 'uglier emotions' worse. (ex. anger, hatred, etc.)

Sam’s face scrunched up as he shifted his cheek against the pillow, shoulders twitching slightly and a hand turning to fist his pillow. It wasn’t like he really needed to sleep, but it was a habit he couldn’t break. Couldn’t stop trying. Though forcing himself wasn’t working, and it wasn’t helping matters any. Especially when the demon wasn’t occupying his hands, his time, his _thoughts_ with anything, they always traveled back to his time in Hell. Back when he believed he’d be stuck there for good.  
  
The things that happened, what he saw, and what he had to do to defend himself. It plagued his subconscious, forced back in the light but came back with a vengeance when nightfall came. Not that it happened _every_ night, but tonight was one of those times. Sam bit his lower lip with a soft sound, pulling the pillow closer as he turned his face to bury it into the softened surface. Another pained noise came from the young man and suddenly he pushed away from the bed, hands fisting the sheets. Sam’s eyes were wide, charcoal black, as his chest heaved.  
  
He breathed in and out. In, out and repeat. His hair was damp with sweat, same as his shirt. Slowly leaning back, Sam surveyed the room with a fearful gaze. He closed his eyes with a relieved breath after a moment and reached back to grip the back of his shirt to tug it up and over his head. He rolled it up then threw it to the floor. Sam let his eyes run over his skin, a hand running over his chest. He rose his other hand, watching as it trembled just like the one resting over the middle of his chest. Covering his mouth, Sam slowly made his way up to card his fingers through his hair.  
  
“Just a dream.” Sam mumbled, whispering to himself. Reassuring. “Just a dream.”  
  
When he lowered his hands, Sam noticed that they were still shaking. _Shit._


End file.
